


The Dragon's Heads

by FallenGods



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 15:01:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12914361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenGods/pseuds/FallenGods
Summary: It is said that the Prince Who Was Promised would come from the line of Aerys and Rhaella. Destiny or not, keeping Targaryens alive in the world is harder than it may seem, but between experienced schemers and deadly knights there are some who intend to do just that. May the gods have mercy on them.





	The Dragon's Heads

He moved through the halls as silently as he could, occasionally peeking back over his shoulder to make sure nobody had followed him, no guards meant to stop him. He really didn’t want to have to kill anyone today. He was supposed to be asleep; even the Kingsguard needed rest and he was set to guard the King’s Chambers through the night. Instead of tossing and turning in his bed until he could exhaust himself into a slumber, he was dashing through the halls of the Red Keep, committing treason. 

He reached Maegor’s Holdfast without drawing too much attention to himself. He was a knight of the Kingsguard, and though his white cloak might draw some eyes, it wouldn’t be suspicious for him to be found approaching the fortress at the heart of the Red Keep. Not to anyone except for the white cloak stood opposite of him just across the drawbridge.

“Prince Lewyn,” the other man greeted him kindly and moved to take his hand.

“Ser Jon,” Lewyn responded and took his hand in his. Jonothor Darry was the least skilled member of the Kingsguard. If he had to, Lewyn was confident he could beat the other knight. Shaking his head, Lewyn mentally chided himself for jumping to such thoughts. 

“What’s the matter?” Jon asked, letting go of Lewyn’s hand and looking at the Dornishman earnestly. 

“Haven’t been able to force myself asleep,” Lewyn said, “I thought I might take my niece and the little ones for a walk.” He hated lying to Jon; he was a good man, dutiful and loyal to no end.

“Things are a bit tense with the rebellion. Perhaps some time with your family will do well to ease your mind.” Jon stepped to the side and allowed Lewyn to pass. The two nodded to each other in mutual respect. Lewyn wanted to say more. He wanted to embrace his fellow knight and apologize for what he was about to do. He wanted to explain himself. He knew he couldn’t without revealing his plan, so he moved along, trying not to think about the fact that when- if the two saw each other again, it would be as enemies.

 

Lewyn was quickly ushered inside the chambers of the Crown Prince and Princess. Prince Rhaegar was marching from Dorne towards the Riverlands with an army, an army he was meant to meet with a force of his own, an army headed towards their own destruction.

“It’s time, Princess,” Lewyn whispered to his niece. Princess Elia Martell was wearing a relatively simple tan dress. Her dark hair was tied into a braid. A young girl stood next to her in a brilliant blue dress, hiding behind her mother’s legs and peeking out at her great uncle. The little one was identical to the Princess in looks. “Come here, Rhaenys,” Lewyn beckoned and the girl nervously approached him. She got within a couple feet of him before she turned back to look at her mother, as if asking for permission. Elia smiled and nodded, giving little Rhaenys all she needed to jump at the kneeling knight and wrap her arms around his neck. He lifted her up, chuckling lightly. 

“Are you sure this is necessary?” Elia asked him as she picked up her second born, a fussy violet-eyed babe named Aegon.

“Yes, Princess, the war is lost.” He answered, shifting Rhaenys to his hip.

“What about Rhaegar? Aren’t you supposed to lead a force to his aid?” Elia questioned.

“Leading lambs to the slaughter,” he said, dismissively. Seeing the look on her face, he added, “do not worry about the Prince. He will be fine, I promise. Come on.” He led her out of the room and back through the keep. They put on fake smiles and spoke about meaningless things as they went, earning themselves no more looks than what was typical of a princess and Kingsguard. When they were nearly to the secret passage that would lead them out to the docks, a familiar voice called out to him. “Go,” Lewyn said and waved Elia on, “I’ll meet you at the docks. Be careful.”

“Prince Lewyn, I had wanted to speak with you before you left,” the boy announced as he approached. His golden locks were starting to get long and shaggy.

“Ser Jaime,” Lewyn greeted and stuck out his hand towards the young knight. “What about, may I ask?” He already knew what the boy was going to ask him, the same thing he had asked of Prince Rhaegar and Ser Arthur Dayne before they left. 

“Well,” Jaime began as he snaked a hand around to the back of his neck, his nervousness evident, “I would ask if you would take me out with you into battle. I am ready.” Lewyn admired the kid’s heart, but knowing what was in store for those who marched to face the rebels, he was glad that King Aerys was keeping the boy in the city, away from the war.

“You know that isn’t my order to give-”

“But you could speak with the king, convince him to allow me to fight!” Jaime cut him off. If Lewyn had been the White Bull or Ser Barristan the Bold, the boy might’ve been scolded for his disrespect. Instead he was silenced by a raised hand and pulled close by his shoulder.

“Remember your duty, Ser. You are a white cloak, one of the greatest knights in the realm. That isn’t by accident or luck.” Lewyn began, watching the boy’s emerald eyes soften at his words, “You have a long way to go before you’re ‘Sword of the Morning’ or ‘the Dragonknight’, but you have time to get there and time to make your own path.” He released his grip on the boy and took a step back. “Now I should be getting back to my niece. Be safe, Ser Jaime.”

The boy merely nodded in acknowledgment and Lewyn turned and walked away. His mind was a storm of emotion. He was proud of Ser Jaime and pissed at King Aerys for stringing the boy along, making him believe he was raised to the guard on his skill alone. He was worried for his niece and her children, for the whole realm as well. He was angry, he realized as he forced himself to unclench his fist. Damn King Aerys for letting this happen. Damn the mad fool.

Lewyn turned back to face Ser Jaime Lannister, who was still standing as still as a statue. He stepped forward and spoke: “Jaime of House Lannister, do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your captain, your liege lord, and your king, to fight bravely when needed and do such other task as are laid upon you however hard or humble or dangerous they may be?”

Ser Jaime raised an eyebrow at his words. “I have already-”

“What is your obligation, Ser?” Lewyn asked.

Jaime looked wary, “I don’t believe I understand-”

“What is the first thing you swear to do when becoming a knight?”

Jaime took a breath and waited, as if he was trying to deduce the older knight’s intentions. “To defend those who cannot defend themselves,” he answered.

Lewyn nodded. “Aye, first and foremost you must defend those who cannot defend themselves.” With that, Lewyn turned again.

“Prince Lewyn, Ser,” Jaime called out, “why are you telling me this?”

He turned to look over his shoulder at the boy, the man, standing before him in armor of white and gold. “There will come a day in your life when you must make a decision that may seem impossible at the time. It may seem like the hardest thing you will ever face. Remember your duty, Ser Jaime, and that choice will be an easy one.”


End file.
